


Don't You Hear Me Calling You?

by immistermercury



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Frustration, but like the least angsty angst ever its just freddie being dramatic for very little reason, but no actual smut, freddie is persistent as hell, garden lodge, this is the story of how freddie and jim met but because im the author its really dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-23 01:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: It was one of the few times that Freddie would not face rejection. There was something about the man across the bar that his mind would not leave unturned.





	1. The Mysterious Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a multi-chapter thing of the way that Freddie and Jim actually met with a lot of references to gay bars and other fun stuff. There will be more cute fluff later on when they actually meet! As always, I don't own the boys or Bohemian Rhapsody. Title is taken from '39 (my favourite song).

_ There’s always something romantic about the unknown. _

 

Freddie watched the man over the bar, letting himself unashamedly stare. The way that his muscles stood out as he leaned across the bar had him all hot under his jacket. He was basking in his anonymity tonight. He looked up from under his eyelashes, his dark eyes intense as he kept his focused gaze on the other man.

 

It wasn’t often that Freddie thought about more than a quick fuck, but there was something about the other man that made him slow down, made him want to take his time and get to know his name and his favourite flavour of ice cream.

 

At the same time, though, the temptation to pull the mysterious man into the crowd and to grind on him uncontrollably was intense. Freddie was caught between wanting to be a gentleman and wanting to be a whore at the same time, the devil and the angel both overwhelming his physical body and filling him with sweet lust.

 

He swallowed the last of his drink, watching as the other man surveyed the area.  _ He couldn’t be with anybody, surely? If he was with somebody then they would be with him right now, and nobody taken would be looking around with the same look as him. _

 

Freddie popped the collar on his jacket and smoothed his hand through his hair, making himself look his best. He pushed his way through the crowd to the other side of the bar. His side was instantly pressed against the side of the other man and god- that was a feeling that Freddie wanted every day. His nerves prickled and his skin flushed, so obviously into the man next to him that he couldn’t even pretend to be disinterested. He cleared his throat quickly and looked up at the man, noticing the slight height difference and feeling oh-so-overpowered by the strength of his emotions.

 

“Can I get you a drink, darling?” Freddie purred, standing on his toes to make himself eye level with the other man. “Anything, you name it.” He smiled and ran his tongue along his lip lightly.

 

Freddie’s eyes watched the face of the man opposite him, seeing him register the request. His lips quirked up into a smile and Freddie felt his heart soar, filled with the possibility that this other man might also be wanting him. He stood up straighter and tried to make himself look stronger and more powerful; he didn’t quite make eye contact, however, demonstrating a slightly submissive side to him.  _ There was no way in hell that this guy wouldn’t be into a vulnerable Freddie Mercury. _

 

“You can buy me a bottle of Dom Perignon, sweetheart, and you can fuck off.” He said roughly, smirking down at him. 

 

Freddie was taken aback, arching an eyebrow. It was all going so promising - and now this? He assumed that he must have not understood and leant a little against the barstool behind him.

 

“Can I at least have your name?” He tried, playing a little bit with his lack of power in the situation.  _ Sometimes it was fun to play the submissive, to put on a totally oh-yes-sir-I-would-do-anything-you-say attitude. _

 

“I said, you can fuck off.” The man replied, the sweetest of smiles on his face that made Freddie want to kiss him and blow him and lavish him in attention all night long. However, he couldn’t miss the message twice, and couldn’t pretend that it didn’t offend him.

 

He turned away with a flourish, going back into the crowd. He threw himself back into dancing, trying to find himself a cheap fuck to get the energy out of his system.

 

He’d be lying if he pretended that he hadn’t watched the mysterious man making out with someone else with the slightest twinge of jealousy.


	2. Mercury and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tiny addition (thank you to Calimera for sending me the inspo for this!) that probably should've been a part of the last chapter, but I wouldn't have been happy if it wasn't included. This is just a bit of fun! You may have noticed that the number of chapters has gone up to six - as well as this addition, I've also planned a little extra bit into this to make it a really sweet story!

Jim watched the man from the side with a scoff. “He was fucking persistent.” He said to his boyfriend, taking a sip from his drink. “Said that he’d buy me anything. Anything! It was almost tempting to kiss him just to see how desperate he was.” He laughed, leaning against the other man. “Of course, I wouldn’t do that to you, sweetheart.” Jim added softly, smiling.

 

“Which one was he?” John asked softly and wrapped both of his arms around Jim. “And don’t worry, love. I know you wouldn't do that to me.” He chuckled, scanning the crowd quickly.

 

Jim lifted his hand and pointed directly at Freddie, before looking up at John again. “The one with the moustache and the leather jacket.” He watched as Freddie danced with the crowd, most eyes on him from a mixture of his sex appeal and his identity. There was absolutely no recognition on Jim’s face, just watching him with a vague sense of distaste.

 

“Him?” John asked, moving away from Jim ever so slightly. “Are you kidding, Jim? Is this some kind of joke, or-”

 

Jim shook his head lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Why? Should I know him?” He asked, wrapping his arms back around John. “He was awfully pushy, is he someone famous?”  _ In these parts of London, it wasn’t uncommon to be chatted up by someone with more money than sense. _

 

“It’s fucking Freddie Mercury!” John said, wide-eyed. “You seriously didn’t recognise him?” He asked, laughing softly. “You really surprise me sometimes, babe.” He kissed him gently, watching as Freddie kept his eyes trained on them. 

 

“Who’s that?” Jim asked and looked up at the other man with wide eyes, looking a beautiful mixture of pure debauchery and complete innocence. 

 

“Freddie fucking Mercury!” John rolled his eyes playful. “He’s only like, the lead singer of the biggest fucking band in the world! He’s the frontman of Queen!”

 

Jim burst out laughing. “Shit! I should’ve made out with him just for the story.”


	3. Boy Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll all enjoy soft boy Freddie (inspired by Lindsey - love you!)

Freddie flopped onto the couch in the studio, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light. He knew that he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t get this guy out of his system, and it was  _ killing him.  _ Usually, he could just find someone else and get it all out with a one night stand, but this guy was different. This guy was fucking distracting him in his day to day life, a mixture of lust but also the sudden realisation that he was, in fact, really fucking lonely.

 

“Fred, Christ-” Roger walked in the room. “Come on, man, it was one bad take. It’s not the end of the world. Just come and try again.” He leant against the doorframe, one shoulder resting against the side. He ran a quick hand through his hair, smoothing it down.

 

He let his gaze rest properly on Freddie and sighed slightly before walking over to him and sitting down beside him. “Come on, Fred. There’s something else bugging you, what’s wrong?” He asked, resting a hand on Freddie’s arm. “What’s bothering you?”

 

Freddie sat up slightly, twisting his hands together as he tried to find the words. Talking about boys seemed so infantile, made him feel like some stereotypical teenage girl who couldn’t focus on her maths homework because she wanted to kiss the striker in the football team. Not being able to articulate himself made him feel trapped, panicked, back into the body of the boy that didn’t know what the slang meant when he started college. He wanted to find the right words to express himself.

 

_ Alexithymia. Concupiscence. Desiderium. Adronitis. _

 

_ Maybe it’s just love. _

 

“Rog, I- I met someone.” He said quietly, almost physically pained by how pathetic it sounded even to his ears. “But it’s not- not like usual, darling. This guy means something to me, something different.” He rubbed his face with the heel of his hands.

 

“I love a bit of boy talk.” Roger smiled, kicking his legs up onto the couch. “Fuck the recording, tell me about this guy.” He said, completely indulging Freddie. He could there was something off in his demeanour, more vulnerable and far softer than usual. This was the Freddie from Kensington Market, not the Freddie that acted up and made him record the same parts ten times before he was happy. 

 

“I met him at Heaven.” Freddie rested his head against the back of the couch. “I’ve spoken to him once, and he told me to fuck off. But there’s something there, you know? I want to get to know him.” He couldn’t help ducking his head down into his hands as he laughed gently. There was no hint of anything except genuine adoration in his physicality, his body just expressing his vulnerability desire to put himself out for the sake of a man that he’d never had a conversation with.

 

Roger couldn’t help himself but laugh.  _ It’s so Freddie to be this caught up over a guy that told him to fuck off.  _ “Did you get his name?” He asked, slumping lazily against the cushions. “Did you mention who you are?”

 

Freddie grinned back at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t know what his name was. He was Irish. He had such a thick accent…” He went a little dreamy. “Pretty muscly. He dressed a lot like me.” 

 

Brian leant in the doorway. “How’re gonna get this guy, Fred?” He asked, openly teasing him, but Freddie was too focused on his question.

 

“I don’t know, darling!” He threw his hands up. “This isn’t group therapy. I’m sure you’ve both got recording to be doing.” He shooed them away and went back into the room, sitting himself on the mixing desk. 

 

His brown eyes caught the light of the studio as he sat there, fiddling with the audio balance of the song. He knew that he had to try his luck again with his mysterious man. He tapped his fingers against his thigh. A single curl had fallen down his forehead, which he shook out of his eyes, watching Brian’s fingers sliding against the strings of the Red Special.

 

His thoughts went back to earlier.

 

_ Was love this feeling? This complex, fucked up mixture of desire and complete devotion. This want to fall asleep next to someone, wake up next to someone, to memorise their coffee order and bring them back whatever their favourite is for when they wake up. The desire to lay against someone’s chest, to play with their fingers and twist their rings and kiss their warm skin as they wake up. _

 

Freddie shook his head, trying to focus on the song at hand. His crush filled him with a sense of warmth that animated his bones, something that made him feel content and calm. He ran a hand over his collarbone, feeling the warmth of his skin under his palm, trailing his fingers over the back of his neck and closing his eyes.

 

“Ready, Freddie?” Roger called from the drumset as his eyes snapped open.

 

“Go ahead.”


	4. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger helps Freddie get ready to go out, and they have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this isn't completely factually correct because Freddie saw Jim in a restaurant in between seeing him at Heaven, but it felt more natural to put Freddie in this. This is the softest Freddie that I've ever written (which is saying something!). This is last chapter before they meet properly again!

“Honestly, Fred, you don’t need to wear a shirt to Heaven.” Roger said with an eye roll, sitting on the pouffe in the dressing room. He leaned back a little, his fingers grazing over the tufts among the velvet. He grinned to himself as he looked around.  _ So much money, and so little fucking taste.  _ “Besides, it’ll probably be good if you want him to notice you. Easy access.” He smirked and Freddie turned around, flushing.

 

“He’s not that kind of man!” He said, insistent. “He definitely wouldn’t do more than kiss on the first date. He’s a true gentleman, Rog, I promise.” Freddie’s voice fell to an uncharacteristically soft tone. “He’s not like the others, darling.” He murmured as he opened the door to his other closet, searching through for the right jacket.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Fred, but you’ve been shit at reading people so far.” Roger said, standing up behind him and picking out the military style leather jacket. “Go for this. It builds up your shoulders and it says something about you that’s different to the others.” He smiled at Freddie, noticing how nervous the other man seemed to be.

 

It was endearing to see Freddie so caught up over another man. It was a long time since he’d spoken like this, so genuinely caught up in the strength of his emotions. Roger was used to all the casual fucks, being no stranger himself, and used to the usual bragging that went with it, but it was rare to see Freddie being genuinely head over heels with someone.

 

“You don’t understand, my dear.” Freddie said, sending a condescending arched eyebrow over his shoulder as Roger sat back down. “It’s rare to find somebody who doesn’t know me. It’s even rarer for someone to tell me to fuck off when I make a move.” He couldn’t help but gloat a little. “And so when someone does, it makes it different. Makes it strange, but interesting.”

 

Roger arched an eyebrow in return, leaning forward. “Choose the jeans. You know which ones I mean.” He watched as Freddie thumbed through all the pairs cluelessly, pulling out a pair. “No, not those ones. Not your regular ones. I mean your show jeans.” He walked over to the other side of the room, to the show closet, finding the jeans that did him all the favours. “These ones.” He handed them over.

 

“You like these ones?” Freddie asked, brushing them off lightly with the palm of his hand. “I can’t help but feel that they’re offensively tight.” He lay the jacket and jeans on the velvet pouffe, looking through his shoe rack. “Boots? Platforms? Heels?”

 

“Boots, definitely. If you’re going with that jacket. You wanna look like you’re ready to kick someone’s ass.” Roger smiled in returning, flopping back dramatically on the velvet. He opened an eye when Freddie started fussing about cologne and grinned at him. “Go and get changed. We’ll worry about that in a minute.”

 

He stood up as Freddie left the room, going over to his shelf of scents and picking them up delicately, bottle by bottle, smelling each one. God, dating seemed so much harder as a gay man than it was for him.

 

“What do you think?” Freddie asked as he walked back in the room. Roger wolf-whistled in response and Fred smacked on the shoulder lightly. “Come on then. Which scent goes best?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. 

 

“Givenchy.” Roger replied, handing him the bottle. 

 

“Good taste.” Freddie grinned, but his hands trembled a little as he sprayed it against the base of his throat. He was awfully nervous but he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to admit that he had worked himself up so much over a man.

 

He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself, checking every angle that he could be presented at. Roger came up behind him, resting two hands against his shoulders. “Calm down, Freddie.” He said quietly. “The worst that happens is that you get another rejection, and then we just say fuck it and move on.” He said, trying to be reassuring.

 

Fred nodded his head softly, the light curls falling over his forehead. “I’ve just gotta be cool. Relax.” He responded, gently biting the tip of his thumb. He couldn’t help the smile that flushed his features. “I’m excited.” He admitted. “But I’m so scared, too.” He said softly, looking down at his boots.

 

“Fred.” Roger chuckled. “God, you’re so smitten. Just have fun.” He smiled and hugged Freddie gently. “He’s gonna love you, I’m sure. Don’t psych yourself out.” He squeezed his shoulders lightly.

 

Freddie looked at himself in the mirror again, practically jittering with excitement. “I’m so bad at relaxing.” He laughed lightly. “Can I steal some of your mascara?” He asked after a little pause, looking at his face in the mirror.

 

Roger rummaged in his bags, finding his usual tube. “Here, try this one. It’s lengthening  _ and _ volumising.” He grinned, watching as Freddie swiped it over his eyelashes, making his eyes appear even darker. Freddie took a minute to admire his own features, highlighted so subtly yet making such an impact to his face. He looked so sinful with such dark features and dark hair but oh-so-innocent with his doe eyes.

 

“I feel like a teenager.” He said quietly as Roger stood behind him, grinning. 

 

“God, you’re making me want to go out tonight.” Roger laughed. There were a few moments of comfortable silence, Freddie combing his hair through his fingers, before Roger spoke up again. “Fred, you’re definitely sure that this guy is single?” He checked softly, taking a swallow of the drink that he’d left on the table to the side of the room.

 

“I’m sure.” Freddie said defiantly. “John’s been going into Heaven to check for me. He’s stopped going in with that other guy, and he’s not been with anybody else regularly since.” He ruffled his hair one final time before grabbing his keys, sliding them into his pocket.

 

“How forensic.” Roger laughed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t get hurt, Fred, okay? We all care about you. Don’t go head over heels like you did for fucking Prenter and think that you can’t talk about it.” Roger squeezed his arm gently. “We’re here for you. Brian’s only a few blocks over. Just - just don’t suffer in silence, okay?” He said softly.

 

Freddie smiled in response. The knowledge that there were people out there that cared was so different to that isolation before, that feeling that he had immensely fucked up to the point that there wasn’t a single person that was left.

 

This time, he was different. He felt warm. He had four best friends, four members of family, people that he could depend on.

 

“Let’s go.” Fred grinned, popping the collar of his jacket and leaving, Roger laughing as he followed.


	5. Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was happening, and it was now.

The smell of Heaven was unlike any other place in London. It was overwhelming to the senses, tropical mixed with sweat and sex, feeling like pure debauchery and sheer enjoyment simultaneously. The atmosphere filled Freddie with excitement, feeling powerful and desirable and so confident in himself. He thrived off the energy, everything playing together to make him more sure than ever that tonight would be the night.

The hand on his shoulder made his skin crackle. He was so electric, every nerve end on fire, wanting more, wanting something hot and heavy but oh-so-delicate. He moved through the crowd fluidly, melding instantaneously into the dancing, into the happiness of the people around him. He fed off their energy, letting himself relax. 

He went up to the bar, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw his man again. Nobody with him, not searching for anyone, making small talk with the bartender.

Perfect.

Freddie grinned and moved towards the other man, the unfamiliarity completely washed away by all the time that he had spent thinking about him. He stood beside him, his breath nearly knocked away again by the strength of his emotions, so overwhelmed to be stood in the same position again. It was so tempting to order something and back away, to not have his fantasy destroyed by harsh reality-

Freddie saw Roger standing in the corner, chatting up a blonde girl. The girls came to a gay bar to get away from guys, but they never seemed to mind when it was the drummer of Queen.

He was the damn frontman, and he wasn’t about to back out now.

He looked up at the man, quickly guiding a hand through his hair before he spoke.

“How about I get us a drink, darling?” He offered, a genuine smile on his face, his expression so obviously filled with an innocent desire to please.

Jim recognised him, of course, but found himself smiling despite himself. Months later, Freddie was repeating the same line, but his countenance was different. He was genuinely vulnerable, open, none of the fake confidence still infecting him.

Jim found it strangely endearing. He found himself nodding, watching the way that Freddie’s face split into a grin. “Okay, Mr Mercury.” He replied, almost unsure of how to address somebody of Freddie’s status.

“I’ll order us Moet.” Freddie said immediately, so genuinely ecstatic that Jim could almost feel it radiate off of him.

As they talked, Freddie found himself absorbed in the beauty of clicking with another person so quickly. Jim was so at ease, so willing to challenge what Freddie said, wanting to see a genuine man as opposed to the frontman façade that so often occupied his identity. In the low light of the corner booth Freddie practically sparkled, his enjoyment and happiness feeling like a beacon. He took his time to listen, to learn and engage, not rushing anything.

Roger watched the way that Freddie hesitantly took Jim’s hand with a smile. He was so nervous, the gentle and honest Freddie that he hadn’t seen for years.

The contact made all those sparks fly back through Freddie’s nerves. In that moment, he was focused on the gentle squeeze that Jim gave in return.

It was happening, and it was now.

The two were so unsure of each other, a world away from the debauchery around them, taking their time to explore each other’s minds and words, careful consideration from every angle. Jim was absorbed by the shy charisma of the other man, so unlike all the stories that he had heard. He could tell that Freddie cared this time.

And God, Freddie cared so much. Freddie wanted to memorise every word, every little movement, the way that Jim held his ring finger a little awkwardly when he drank, the way he ducked his head when he laughed, the way he became more animated as the night went on.

And Jim noticed Freddie too, noticed the occasional way that he would glance around as if to ground himself in time and space, the way that he became so absorbed in listening that he would repeat little phrases as though in awe. He hung onto every word that Jim said, interested in every story and every fact, every personality trait and habit.

They talked until Jim’s eyes were growing heavy. “We can go back to mine, if you’d like, darling?” Freddie offered, slipping an arm around Jim’s waist as they stood up.

“I’d love that, Your Royal Highness.” He replied, pressing a soft kiss to Freddie’s jawline in response.

“I’ll call us a cab.” Freddie responded, although his heart was soaring from the little kiss to the point that he almost couldn’t remember the task in hand. They went out into the cold morning air, holding each other like two love-drunk teenagers, laughing and joking as they waited together at the taxi rank.

And when they were home, Freddie got two more glasses, pouring a little whiskey into both - a favourite drink, mentioned early in the evening. Garden Lodge felt warmer that night, the expanse of rooms feeling so much more homely when there was another person there to enjoy them. 

“And then she kissed him!” Jim ended his anecdote, drinking in the glossy excitement that animated Freddie’s eyes. He took a swallow and refilled his glass from the bottle, relaxing into the cushions of the sofa that seemed to swallow him home.

Freddie sat in silence for a few moments, swirling his drink around in his glass. Jim watched him intently, watched the way that he became so absorbed in the movement that he forgot that he wasn’t speaking. The furrow of his brow told Jim that he was thinking, thinking hard, intently focused on something.

“What is it, my love?” He asked softly, moving forward to cup Freddie’s cheek carefully. Freddie moved into the touch, closing his eyes momentarily. He hadn’t felt so safe, so wanted in a long time, someone who wanted to talk to him about him instead of just about the band. Someone who cared about his thoughts and feelings instead of his bed.

He opened his eyes, meeting Jim’s, gaze clouded with a soft contemplation. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, my darling.” He responded, taking Jim’s hand and kissing the knuckles gently. “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.” He whispered, looking incredulously at the smile that Jim gave him. He didn’t want to move too quickly, wanted to treasure every moment that he had with Jim, didn’t want to scare him away by being too intense or too strange.

“I’m here now.” Jim responded, leaning forward and kissing Freddie slowly, cupping his face with both hands now. Freddie moved closer, settling into it, arms around Jim’s neck to keep him close. It was slow, chaste, an exploration of emotion and feeling more than testing physical boundaries.

It was perfect.

Freddie broke away first, unable to keep the smile from flooding his face. “God, Jim-” He said softly, before kissing him again, slow and lazy, dominated with the four o’clock in the morning sleeplessness and a feeling that he was so desperately, hopelessly in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is just going to be a little epilogue, the first morning together!


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's early the next morning in Garden Lodge.

Freddie had the gown draped over his shoulders, the royal one from his last party - the first soft, heavy thing that could find on his bedroom floor. He crossed one leg over the other as he sat down on his piano stool, picking up the receiver from his phone and dialing a number quickly. 

He inspected his hands as it rang, turning them over impatiently. Kisses had been peppered over them throughout the evening, and the memory of it made Freddie’s chest flood with warmth. He smiled as he watched the sunshine filtering through the big window, having made peace with the early sunrise a long time ago, the time when sleep had stopped being so natural.

“Hello?” The tired voice came from the other end of the phone, heavy with sleep, clearly interrupted and not best pleased about it, judging from the hint of a curt tone in the short word.

“Roger, darling.” Freddie responded, relaxing almost immediately. “I’m in desperate need of an SOS.” He explained, pulling the velvet closer around himself, fending off the bitter cold of a clear-sky morning.

Roger seemed to perk up a little at the request, always one for drama. “What happened, Fred? Where are you?” He asked, tone light and airy, melding with the lightness of the morning and the lightness of his mood to make him feel as though he was floating.

“At home, my dear. But I have a very attractive man in my bed.” He couldn’t help but boast a little, the pride practically beating out of his chest. He wanted to tell everyone that it had finally happened, it was finally here, he was finally happy. “And I don’t quite know what to do next.” He added, a soft flush running over his cheeks and down his neck, the faintest hint of watercolour discolouring the skin and betraying his nervous excitement.

“Did you get laid?” Came Roger’s reply, his own excitement evident in the high pitch of his voice. Freddie could almost see the way that he moved his eyebrows suggestively. “Did he let you bottom? Fred, was he-”

Freddie cut him off with a sharp “Roger!”. “It’s nothing like that.” He added smoothly. “He kissed me, and that’s as far as we took it.”

Roger seemed disappointed. “Well, what are you phoning me for, then?” He asked as Freddie’s eyes were dragged to a little patch of orange rolling around in the morning dew. Oscar was first out again, enjoying the morning sunshine that was beginning to warm Freddie’s bare torso.

“Because-” Freddie huffed a little indignantly. “I happen to have a very attractive man in my bed, and I don’t know the general protocol of what comes next.” He yawned then, dark eyelashes brushing his cheeks. He stretched out as he did so, the fur falling from one shoulder, the cold air leaping to touch the warmed skin, to make it icy to touch again. 

Roger laughed a little. “Fred, there’s no protocol. That’s part of romance.” He replied. Freddie shook his head, tapping his foot to the beat in his head. “But try starting with tea and cigarettes in bed. In my experience, that one usually goes down a treat.” Freddie considered it for a few seconds, about to agree before Roger cut him off. “And make sure you’ve taken off your makeup from last night. You don’t look as sexy when you look like you haven’t slept for a week.” He said brusquely before hanging up.

Freddie ran a thumb under his eye, the skin coming back black. Although a little unexpected, the reminder was welcome. Such rushed reminders and pointers were Roger’s speciality.

Besides, he was the only one who he could rely on to be awake no matter the time.

He stood up, stretching again as he let the sunlight fill him with that lightness already occupying his mind. Every part of his body felt feather-light, ethereal and so delicate. He felt a world away from how he had felt the day before, his whole being feeling different.

He hung the cape over one shoulder, still clinging to it for warmth like a child to a comfort blanket, waiting for the morning to lose the last of its sharpness in favour for the brightness that would make the flowers in the garden look like art. He walked into the bathroom, running his fingers along the porcelain counter before retrieving his makeup wipes. He carefully removed the look of the night before, ever so careful not to upset his skin by rubbing too harshly. He brushed his teeth and rinsed his face with warm water, taking his time to care for himself, in the way that only love can convince a person to. 

He even took the time to spray himself with a little cologne, a faint memory of the night before clinging to his body and making him smile that warm smile, the one without any hint of self-consciousness.

He closed his eyes momentarily, drinking in the feeling of this lazy confidence, the calmness that seemed to saturate every pore of his being. He tilted his head back, stretching out the tense muscles in his neck, noticing every little part of his body.

And then he noticed the strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind, the soft kiss being pressed just under his jawline. He kept his eyes closed but gripped the sink in front of him, feeling so spoilt and so loved, so divine and so royal in that moment.

“Good morning, my dear.” The thick accent came from behind him and he smiled, looking at their reflection in the mirror, a reflection of nothing besides pure adoration and comfort in company. “You’re an early riser.”

Freddie brought his hand to Jim’s chin, tilting it slightly so that he could kiss him properly. “Good morning, my darling.” He said softly, resting his thumb on the high point of his cheekbone, holding him so safely yet so gently. “I would’ve expected you to wake later too.” He smiled, the lazy confidence giving him such an ease of attitude, making every little movement feel so comfortable and so delicate, no awkwardness between them.

“The bed was cold.” Jim whispered, pulling back and smiling at Freddie. Freddie noted the way that his hair was mussed up from sleep, the thickness of his voice, sleep rich, heavy and sated from the night. The sunlight, now confident of its own accord, no longer clinging to the cold night, touched the highlights of his face with a gilded caress, granting him his own ethereal quality.

“It won’t be cold for long.” Freddie promised, voice barely touching a whisper as to not disturb the peace that sat between them, weighing heavily on the conscience of them both, promising more than was being spoken but less than was being acknowledged. “You go back to bed, my darling.”

“And where will you be?” Jim asked in response, his cold fingers touching Freddie’s with a tentative gesture. “Because I don’t want to be away from you for too long, my love.”

Freddie could hear Roger in the back of his mind, and he smiled.

The sun caught the corner of Jim’s eyes, and Freddie fell in love in that moment.

“I’ll be making tea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's come to an end! Thank you so much for all the love and support on this, I've read every comment and tried my best to respond to as many as possible, and I've appreciated every single kudos! I hope this story was everything you wanted and more - I myself, even as the author, found my heart getting soft from this last chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading - please leave a comment (they really make my day!), kudos, and any requests you have below. Alternatively, please leave any requests on my tumblr /immistermercury!


End file.
